


In A Shell

by semper_eadem



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Genre: Brothers, Family, Gen, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:30:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semper_eadem/pseuds/semper_eadem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo/Raph brotherly fluff and shell scrubbing</p>
            </blockquote>





	In A Shell

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my native language, so bear with me.   
> I don't know how some areas of the Turtle's lair look like, but I imagine when they can build high-tech machinery, they could also built themselves a bathroom that would make every Hogward's prefect green with envy.

“You've drawn the short one, eh?” Raphael gave him a quick grin, after throwing his pads with the wristbands and belt on the small bench in the far corner. His sai had been already put down carefully on the worn down surface, their steel shining like a polished scalpel under the neon light of the bathroom.

 

Grumbling something under his breath, Leonardo gestured impatiently for his brother to sit down on a small stool. “Donnie already did Michelangelo's and mine, and I'm sure you rather would not let Mickey on your shell.”

 

With an affirmative grunt, Raph let himself fall on the rickety stool, already threatening to give in under the big turtle's weight. “Better not,” he said, shuffling around until his shell was facing his brother, “he probably would paint hearts on it or something.”

 

“In bright orange no less,” Leonardo chuckled, enjoying Raphael's almost good mood even with the prospect of the less than desirable work he had to do. To be honest, he had been surprised at Raph's almost immediately compliance to let anyone at his back that did not include heavy weaponry. But then, he should not be, especially after Don had googled for pictures of the worst cases of shell rot on the internet to hang on the fridge. 

 

Leo still could not look at minced pork without queasiness. 

 

However, the light patches on Mickey's carapace, that had Don in a medical frenzy and overprotective near-panic for days, turned out to be paint stains he acquired after falling asleep over his newly drawn comic sketches. Unsurprisingly it did not calm down Donnie's wariness concerning this topic and he had ordered a throughout cleaning of all their shells. The work was tedious and not at all glamorous, especially after Leo had seen what Don had picked out of the grooves of Mickey's shell.

 

However, Leo could not be angry at being pushed into doing the undesired shell number 4 of the family. If any, he had been looking forward to the little quality time with his less sociable little brother. Of course, he would not confess this under punishment of death. Or he would have never gotten Donnie and Mickey to agree to do his chores for the next two month. 

 

Sometimes it really pays off to play the martyr, Leonardo mused in wry humor.

 

“You ready?” he asked, checking again his cleaning supplies, that looked more like the contents of a toolbox than actually medical equipment. 

 

“Just get it over with,” Raph grumbled, shifting on the small seat to get more comfortable. His words came out less annoyed as was probably intended. Even Raphael seemed to enjoy the rare times he could share with his oldest brother. And that all without trying to tear each others throat out.

 

True, they would see each other several times over the day, as it came with living in the same place, but with his extended training and Raph getting shanghaied repeatedly by Michelangelo for another video game, their personal interaction was as of late rather limited. For the two siblings, who had seemingly only ninjutsu and arguing over the seemingly banalest things as common ground, this was as good an excuse as any for some fraternal togetherness. 

 

Leo smiled, even though his brother could not see it, and knelt down behind him. Bemused, he flicked the tail ends of the red bandana over Raph's shoulder. He doubted that Raph even realized that he took off all his tack, except his mask. Leo could not help but see the irony, as he felt the blue cloth crinkle around his eyes, while shooting a look at his katana and gear on the other side of the room were he had left them so the water and cleaning solutions would not ruin the leather.

 

“Well, here we go.” Dunking a scrubbing brush into the bucket full of soapy water, Leo begun his task. After the first few swipes, it was already clear that Raph's shell was in desperate need of a scrub. Shell rot or not. 

 

“When was the last time, you got your shell cleaned?” Leo asked, as layer for layer dirt came of the broad carapace. 

 

Raph gave him an incredulous look over his shoulder. “I may not be as good at ninjutsu as you, but I bet even you have trouble reaching your own shell,” he stated, as if it was the obvious thing in the world. 

 

Leo shot him a look of his own. He did not know what was more disturbing, that Raph did not care about the state of his shell or that he simply had not thought about getting help. Knowing Raphael, it was most likely the last and the one that makes it not any better in his opinion. 

 

He narrowed his eyes in newly risen annoyance. “You could actually asked one of us to do it for you, you know.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Leo cringed inwardly. He had not wanted for it to come out in this condescending tone, that Michelangelo had once dubbed as his “Fearless Leader Lecture Mode”. It was also the tone, that seldom failed to rile up Raph in a matter of seconds.

 

As if on cue, the big turtle whirled halfway around, making the stool creak pitifully under him, his eyes ablaze with irritation. 

 

Berating himself for his carelessness, Leo was sure that he had ruined the good mood between them, before they even had really started. Hastily, he put a apology together or at least to made ready to duck any incoming blow, but the words died on his lips as Raph wordlessly turned again his shell to him. Muscles under dark green skin rippled with tension, as Raph huffed to the silent room.

 

Leo shock his head in disbelieve and stared a little dumbfounded for a moment at the clean stretch of shell he had lain free. The lighter texture stood in harsh contrast to the rest of the dull colored carapace. And Leonardo could not help himself to resolved, that he meant every word he had said. 

Why was it always so hard for Raph to ask for help? Serves him right, if his shell was already rotting under all that filth, he thought sardonically, though insincerely.

 

“What?” Raphael suddenly barked, gruff but strangely good-natured, startling Leo from his thoughts and the still slightly simmering contempt from previous blows with his brother, that always seemed to needle on another fight between them. This time, things were different, as dark green shoulders, that had been set in a defensive angle, loosened marginally. “Don't tell me we should scrub each others' backs like monkeys picking lice.”

 

Leo could not help but to laugh at this mental image. Relief washed over him, as it was clear his brother did not take any offense and sulk for the rest of the day, while he himself nursed a busted ego to the point of dumb stubbornness. To have Raph alone for himself, without confrontation or interruption of any kind, was a rare treasure for Leonardo. And he was happy that he had not spoiled this opportunity with careless behavior, and for Raph to give this actually a chance. 

 

“Why not?” Leo said, keeping his voice equally light, “Donnie and I do each others' regularly. Mickey's too, but that rather sporadically. And only when he sits still long enough.”

 

“I can imagine,” Raph chuckled, and Leo could feel the vibration of the sound through the keratin. It was a nice feeling.

 

He picked up once again the brush and studied it intently for a moment, before putting it again on his brother's shell. “I mean it, Raph. You can ask me any time. And I'm sure Donnie and Mickey would do it for you too.”

 

Raph just hummed at his words, then shrugged his shoulders. “I never really thought about it,” he said quietly, but noncommittal. His accent was so thick, that Leo had some trouble to understand the words. 

 

Stifling a sigh, Leo returned to his work. After another few minutes of scrubbing, it was apparent that one bucket would not be enough, and Leo got up to change the water. As he poured the dark brown liquid down the drain, he heard Raph grumbling loud enough to be heard over the rushing noise of the water. 

 

“Fine, I'll think about it,” he said, and Leo wondered how someone so independent and self-sufficient like Raph could sound as if he had been just invited to a secret club, he had always wanted to belong to but did not want to sound to eager. Leo had known that played gruff indifference since Mickey had let Raph play with his hand-down action figures, to the time Donnie had asked for his help with the Battle-Shell. 

Biting the inside of his cheek, Leo took more care in filling up the bucket with fresh water and soap than was probably necessary. He almost did not hear, as Raph added with deflecting irritation, “But I'll never touch Mickey's shell. I've seen in what garbage he can fall asleep in.”

 

Reassuming his place behind his brother, Leo congratulated himself that his laughter did not sounded at all forced. To be honest, he never had thought about it either. The tube they had installed was big enough to accompany all four of them and still leave enough room for Master Splinter, if he was so inclined. After their practice time, Leo usually would share the bathroom with Don to save the time their had to wait for the other to finish and to relish in a good back scrub. On occasion Michelangelo would join them without any further invitation, jumping into the heated up tube that was already occupied by his siblings and flooding the whole bathroom in the process. 

 

Raphael on the other hand, seldom indulged in a long soak. He usually would spend the time with lifting wights or with the punching bag until it was his turn. And then he would only do a quick shower, while grumbling that someone had again used up all the hot water. 

 

Leo should not feel so surprised by this thought, than he actually was. When he was in a slightly less confrontational mood, Raph enjoyed spending time with his brothers as much as the next turtle. However, commanding the others' time on his own initiative, was rare. But somewhere, someone had forgotten to mention to him, that he would not be denied a full tube already occupied with his brothers.

 

Relieved that Raph could not see his frown, Leo handled the scrubbing brush with new vigor. Attacking the grime, like he would an enemy that was threatening his family.

 

“Hey bro, leave some of my shell in one piece, would you.”

 

Startled, Leo looked up, to see the honey brown eyes of his brother dance with rare humor. Unable to resist, he gave Raph an honest smile in return. 

 

“I think there's enough of it to go around,” he quipped back, but scrubbed now with lesser force than before. Raph watched him for a moment longer from over his shoulder, then turned his head forward again. But not before Leo could see the satisfied look on his face. 

 

He did it again, Leo thought affectionately, feeling suddenly silly. Again, Leo had lost himself in a cycle of pity and guilt, letting his focus narrow to an insignificant detail in a mesh of random occurrences. 

 

And again, Raph brought him out of it, like almost always. At least this time he did not put his fist into Leo's face or got tossed by his eldest brother over the roof's edge to do it. Once in a while, even their brash Raphael would use words coupled with his strange sense of humor, making Leo aware when he was being stupid and rather should turn his attention to more important things. 

 

Like actually spending time with his baby brother.

 

Dunking again the brush into the bucket, Leo was ready to begin with it now.

 

“Donnie told me about the improvements, you two wanted to do on the Battle-Shell,” he said conversationally. And it worked like a charm, as Raphael begun to animatedly talk about the ideas they got for their truck. 

 

“I doubt Donnie would agree to install an ejection seat,” Leo commented, after hearing about the latest plans.

 

Raph hummed, again making his shell vibrate from the soft sound. “I knew the suggestion box was a bad idea. I recognize Mickey's scrawl anywhere.” 

 

Of course, such a suggestion could only come from one source. The on-board minibar and the pizza oven had been already rejected. That, however, did not make Mickey lose his zeal for other new features. No matter how impracticable they were.

 

Laughing at the mental image Raph painted about Donnie catching their youngest brother duct taping the electrical can opener to the dashboard, Leo exchanged the scrubbing brush for long tweezers. “Hold still there,” he giggled breathlessly, “There's something stuck in this crack.”

 

Raph, in the meantime, was unperturbed as he picked around the rather unnatural crevice, now and then coming into contact with something not shell. 

 

“So, Donnie made a grab at Mickey – either to hold him or kill him, who knows – and Mickey crawled out the roof hatch. Of course, Donnie after him. How the twerp survived, I still don't know, but at the end the can opener was only a heap of trash and Mickey banned from the garage until further notice – That had been Don's words, but you could interchange them with 'never ever' and you would be nearer to the truth.”

 

“So that happened to the can opener,” Leo exclaimed, remembering the missing kitchen utensil. The tweezers caught the object only with difficult, and Leo had to work hard to persuade it from it's keratin casing. “I had to use my katana for a week until we could replace it.”

 

Bracing against Raph's shell, he gave one final tug and the thing came loose. With mild interest, Leo inspected the dull metal stuck between the tweezers tips. 

 

“And you were a damn good replacement yourself, Leo,” Raph went on, not noticing the sudden silence from his brother. “Eh, Leo?”

 

“Raph,” he finally said, voice tight and painfully even. One arm grabbed around his brother's shoulders like on a lifeline, while he brought the tool up with the other, so both had a good view at it. “When had been the last time someone shot at you?”

 

 

~******~

 

 

There they were. Three deformed lumps of metal, laying oh so innocently in the small bowl, that was sitting oh so inconspicuous on the table in Donatello's lab. Nothing but scrap, but for Leo they were the embodiment of purest horror.

 

“Please, Leo,” Don said, glancing from his brother to the bowl and back again in uneasiness, “calm down.” 

 

“Calm down?” This were probably the last words he had wanted to hear. Stopping his pacing, Leo spat again with rising anger, “Calm down?! I don't want to calm down. I just picked three bullets out of my baby brother's shell, and you tell me to calm down!”

 

Not waiting for an answer, he turned to continue his frantic pacing as if his life depended on it. He stomped from one end of the room to the other, while catching his toe on the same spare part for the third time. 

 

Leo could not understand why Donnie could be so calm about it, and even wanting for him to be as serene. Donatello had not been the one to find the bullets in places, that would have been life threatening, if the shell had not been there in the first place. He also had not been the one to witness Raphael's rather indifferent reaction to the discoveries of each and every one of them. 

 

“Leo, I'm far from as calm as you make me out to be,” Donnie said, rising his voice enough to get his attention over the ruckus Leo made as he kicked a handy toolbox. “Believe me, if I find out who fired them in the first place, I would make them eat them. But right now, we need a clear head--” Leo snorted in indignation. He somewhat had a sense of reverse déjà vu. Kind of. By now, Raph would have already put his fist through a wall.

 

“We need a clear head,” Don repeated with strained patience, “to make sure the next bullet wouldn't just hit his shell the next time.”

 

“You're damn right, that's not going to happen again,” Leo declared, only one breath away from drawing his katana. He took a deep breath to control the urge to hack at the bullets with abandon, curiously clear about how ridiculous and deranged that would look. 

 

“Well, what did you do?”

 

It took a couple of minutes for Donnie's words to be registered, as he went back to the pacing. A good friend it was, the pacing. “What do you think I did? I continued making jokes about can openers and finished scrubbing his shell.” There had been not much else to do, after fighting down an aneurism as Raph simply shrugged at his questions. Freaking out would had been nice, but that would have only ended in another argument and destroyed the, for once, good mood and companionship between them. And that was something Leo could not bear to lose in their usual strained relationship. 

 

Don, on his side, looked unconvinced. “So, you opted to play along?”

 

“Believe me, I never worked so hard since the Ninja Tribunal.” Turning for another round, Leo caught something akin of a smirk on Donnie's face. “What? You would rather have me pull the leader card and lecture him about reckless behavior? I'm sure that would have gone so well.”

 

Don lifted his hands in a surrendering gesture. “Point taken.”

 

Both of them knew about Raph's tendency of going defensive when being called on his actions. Like a wounded animal driven into a corner. Now that was as unpleasant an image as they came. 

 

Leo stopped in mid-pace with a sigh, kicking the same toolbox again without enthusiasm. 

 

“What do you want to do?” Don finally asked, taking the accursed bowl in his hands. The grating sound of the bullets rolling around in the china, made his heart sink. With two long strides Leo was at his brother's side and snatched the bowl from his fingers, before he slammed it back on the table. 

 

What he want? That was at least easy. 

 

Almost snarling, Leo begun, “I want--” to put his brother in a bulletproof box, swatted in cotton and tons of these small styrofoam thingies, that always end up laying around the lair's floor and never could get ride of them no matter how often they vacuum. 

 

But this was impossible, or at least highly opposed by certain family members. Therefore the only thing Leo could do was pacing in Donnie's lab like a madman, while Raph was back up there again, collecting new slugs in his shell. 

 

Burying his head in his hands, Leo sank exhausted on the cot, Don always crashed on when working through the night. “I...” He stopped to swallow thickly. His voice sounded even to him foreign as he continued. “I don't want to lose him, because he would take everything on his shell to protect us.”

 

Leo did not know how long he sat there, swallowing sobs that threatened to crush him. At some point, Donnie came to sit beside him and lay an arm around his shaking shoulders. 

 

Holding onto his brother for the rest of the night, Leo made a silent vow.

 

 

~*****~

 

 

“This concludes our training.” A twitch of gray whiskers betrayed the satisfaction on the calm face. “Dismissed.”

 

Four ninja bowed as one, before turning back into loud and unruly teenagers. Master Splinter watched them with fondness, as they left the dojo, laughing and bickering all the way. 

 

Once in the living room, they turned to their usual occupation. 

 

Michelangelo did not lose time to somersault on the couch and browse the channels. There was a marathon of his favored TV-show on, personal hygiene had to wait. Maybe he would jump in with his brothers while the commercials run.

 

Waving his older brother away, Donnie made a beeline to his lab. Somewhere on the twentieth repetition on this one kata a thought had stuck with him and gnawed since then at the back of his mind. Finally free of training, he lets himself get carried away in the current of his own imagination. 

 

Leo watched Don vanish with slight amusement. He had been so preoccupied during their training, that Leo had to make some sudden moves to keep from getting hit by a careless swung bo more than once. It was a miracle that Master Splinter had not commented on Don's lack of concentration. 

 

Well, that would be the last time he would see him until dinner. That was for sure. Chuckling to himself, Leo made his way to the bathroom, settling with having to use the big bathtub alone for once. 

 

Having crossed the room halfway, his eyes caught sight of his third brother. Raph had moved to the workout area, where, among other things, hung a well used punching bag. Thick fingers were already fumbling with a roll of tape and Raphael swore under his breath, as his short fingernails failed to rise the stubborn edge. 

 

“Hey, Raph,” Leo called, before the tape could finally give in and be wrapped around Raph's hands for another workout. “Want a shell scrub?”

 

A look of utter surprise flickered over his brother's face, but only for a moment. “Sure.” The roll of tape was thrown back onto the shelf. “But nothing to bubbly.”

 

Leo just smiled. “Whatever you want.”

 

 

End.


End file.
